The Important Things
by Jazzola
Summary: A Fraphne oneshot. When something goes wrong in the couple's house, what will come of it? Written for Hayles45's challenge, but for everyone. Please review!


A/N: This is a story written specially for Hayles45 but for each and every one of the people who read my stories as well, especially someone who has named themselves "Jazzola numero uno fan"- I'm honoured! So, read and enjoy. Just a one-shot of my favourite couple living life together. Jazzola

"AAAAH!"

Daphne staggered from the bathroom with her hand over her cheek and blood running down her fingers. As soon as she saw the blood, she started gasping, but she managed to make it to the lounge without fainting, where Fred was lounged on the sofa watching a game. As soon as she made her dramatic entrance, Fred abandoned the game and rushed into the kitchen to get a plaster for the cut on Daphne's cheek.

"Daph, sweetie, I'm here, don't panic," he whispered as Daphne wiped her shaking hands on some paper towels. Daphne let the towels fall to the floor and reached up to hug him, her eyes still wide with shock and blood still trickling from her cheek. Fred hugged her back, gently stroking her hair to help her calm down. She had had quite a fright, and it was evident in the way she clutched her husband's arms and arched her neck to his touch.

"You OK now?" Fred asked gently as she stopped shaking. She nodded and looked at him quizzically.

"Why didn't you come and see if I was OK when I screamed?"

Fred smiled.

"Daphne, sweetheart, you scream every morning when you see your bedhead."

Daphne first glared at him and then snorted with laughter as he started laughing too, unable to keep in his mirth. She could never stay grouchy with him for long anyway, he was too easy-going and sweet to her.

"Oh… right…"

Fred gently pulled her to her feet, holding her close still and treating her to one of those newlywed kisses that made her feel so special inside.

"What happened?"

Daphne sniffed and started to tell her story.

"Well, I'd just been wiping off some of my mascara when it started running a little- remind me not to buy this brand again- and then I needed the loo, so I went, and when I flushed the loo something came up out of the cistern and smacked me in the face!"

Fred frowned as she ended, not at her, in thought.

"I guess something's gone wrong with it," he murmured, still holding Daphne. She snuggled into his arms, still a little scared from what had happened with the toilet. The last thing you expect when you go is to be hit in the face by something from the thing.

"Come on, we'll take a look."

Daphne hung back.

"Um… Freddy, sweetheart, shouldn't we get a plumber? I don't want you getting hurt as well."

Fred shook his head, displacing a few locks of blond hair adorably. Daphne smiled and stroked it back into place as he spoke.

"I can fix it, it's probably nothing. A lever or something in the wrong place, maybe. It's nothing."

Daphne smiled again, but this time she was remembering when Fred had volunteered to mend the Mystery Machine the first ever time. He had ended up covered from foot to toe in brake fluid when he'd tried to do something to the brakes. Daphne had nearly killed herself laughing but it hadn't done much for Fred's confidence.

"That time with the Mystery Machine…"

"Is never to be spoken of again," Fred butted in quickly, leaning down and tickling Daphne mercilessly on the stomach. Just that little tickle was enough to double Daphne up, squealing, as she started fighting her husband gently to get him to stop.

"I'll only stop if you promise to never mention that again as long as you live," Fred teased her, cackling as she started laughing and screaming and begging for mercy at the same time.

"OK, OK!" Daphne gasped, laughing almost too hard to breathe. The plaster on her cheek began to peel off under the strain and Fred quickly stuck it back into place, stroking her skin with his finger as he did so. The tenderness of being newlyweds hadn't worn off and although the couple had had a few arguments- Fred insisting that Daphne was not going to paint the lounge in pink, Daphne trying to get Fred to change from wearing loafers to shoes that nearly cost more than the Mystery Machine and the repairs it had had combined- they were loving being husband and wife. Even Daphne changing her name to Jones had been done in a loving way, with her going to the office to change it and then them having a romantic dinner for two afterwards.

"I'll get some gloves," Fred said quietly, kissing Daphne on the cheek and walking over to his little corner of the utility room, where things such as gardening and working gloves and toolboxes (plural) were kept. He slipped his thick leather pair on, picked up his household toolbox and, with Daphne clinging so hard to his arm you would have thought he was going to do battle with a dragon instead of sorting out a misbehaving toilet cistern, went upstairs to the bathroom.

The room looked completely normal, except for a little blood and a shred of metal on the floor which was tinged red on one side. Fred carefully picked it up and examined it, Daphne peeking over his shoulder at it and wincing.

"That just looks like a random bit of metal," Fred said, putting it down on the side of the bath and walking forwards to the toilet. There was a little pool of blood on the seat and he wiped it away with some toilet paper, wincing himself.

"How much did you bleed, Daph?"

"A bit," Daphne replied somewhat sheepishly. He smiled at her.

"It's not a problem, don't worry about it."

He reached forwards with one heavily-gloved hand- and flushed the toilet, leaping back as he did it to avoid being hit with anything himself.

Daphne shrieked as something bombed out of the toilet and flung itself against the opposite wall, making a huge dent in the plaster and clattering to the floor like its predecessor. Fred leaned against the wall himself, studying the small porcelain object as though he was eyeing a land mine.

"Hmm…"

His eyes went into their glazed, thoughtful state, and Daphne wiped a little blood off her chin as she waited for him to come out of it with a plan.

After a minute, he came back, smiling at her and walking out of the room briefly. He came back with a tarpaulin, which he covered the toilet cistern with and taped in place.

"That'll protect us should it fire off any more of those shards," Fred said, standing back and admiring his handiwork. Daphne smiled but didn't voice her thoughts as she recalled the Mystery Machine incident. _"You're doing a lot better, Freddy…" _she thought, giggling slightly and earning a confused look from Fred.

"I'll take a look under it, see what's wrong."

He opened the little hatch in the floor and started going down, cautious and careful but fairly quick. Daphne held her breath until he called back up to her.

"You can breathe again now, I'm OK."

Daphne smiled sheepishly as she thought of how much he knew her by now.

"Breathing…" she called down softly, and he chuckled and started looking round at the system.

"If you cause some kind of explosion, Freddy…" she called down, looking nervously at the covered cistern and folding her arms across her chest. Not that she valued her chest more than the rest of her body; it was just a change of stance that was instinctive. Fred called back up to say that he promised he wouldn't, and began tinkering with something that Daphne couldn't see but trusted would be repaired, with Fred's current knowledge of repairing from the Mystery Machine.

After a couple of minutes, he reappeared, wiping a little water from his forehead and pushing his toolbox onto the floor of the bathroom.

"It's fixed, it was something to do with the… um… well, whatever it's called, it's fixed."

Daphne laughed and helped him out, giving him a hug when he was out and had slipped the sodden gloves off. She grimaced at them and he smiled.

"I stayed out of the pipes, don't worry."

Daphne smiled and looked down at her watch.

"Oh, honey, my fashion show's on now… can you clear up? Pretty please?"

He laughed as she gave him her good-little-girl pout, perfected by years of use on her parents and now him.

"Of course, sweetheart."

She smiled, hugging him happily, and dashed through to the lounge. Fred heard the music for the catwalk start up, this time Lady Gaga, and grinned to himself as he tidied up. He would get his revenge later by criticising the latest outfits, men's and women's. He had never been very into fashion, preferring to wear whatever matched in his teenage years and just whatever fitted the occasion now, but she was a real fashionista girl and always had been.

As soon as the cleanup was done, he went through into the lounge and started making little remarks on the outfits, some of which made Daphne laugh and some of which she even agreed with but some of which earned him a smack on the head or arm with a cushion. He had enough sense to only comment on the outfits Daphne didn't sigh at.

As soon as the show was over, the pair had dinner and followed the normal routine, showering and getting into bed, just like every other day, except Fred insisted on taking another look at the cut on Daphne's cheek and putting a fresh plaster on it before they went to sleep.

Daphne was suddenly wide awake for some reason. She had no idea why, and it wasn't something to do with the house, because Fred was sleeping serenely and deeply beside her, one hand over the side of the bed and the other resting on his chest. Daphne smiled at him, leaning over and kissing him gently on the cheek, and quietly got out of bed so as not to disturb him, walking towards the bathroom. She guessed it might be something to do with the events of the afternoon, and wanted to set her mind at rest; maybe if she saw for herself that the bathroom was back to normal, she'd be able to sleep.

She opened the door and walked in- and as soon as she had stepped in, her feet splashed into a puddle.

Daphne frowned, turning the light on.

"OH MY GOODNESS! FREDDY!"

The entire room was flooded. The puddles glowed in the light, reflecting the bulb and the ceiling and Daphne's white, scared face. The bath was empty, so it wasn't coming from there.

Daphne's eyes strayed to the toilet, and she gasped.

The water was coming from around the toilet.

"FREDDY! GET HERE NOW! FREDDY!"

Fred rushed over to her as soon as he heard her screams, jolted from a deep sleep and yawning. The yawn stopped as soon as he looked at the flooded room, his mouth stretched almost comically and his eyes widened.

"Oh brother…"

He backed away from the room slightly.

"I can't fix this, Daph. We should have gotten a plumber in the first place…"

Daphne shook her head at him.

"I'm agreeing with you on this one. Get your phone, we'll find a motel or something. We can't stay here."

He nodded and walked out to the bedroom, returning with his phone and dressed after a while. Daphne just grabbed a suitcase and filled it, pulling a robe and coat on over her pyjamas. She had thought the nightie was a bad idea for tonight…

"Women's intuition," she murmured to herself as she walked down to the Mystery Machine and slid into it. Fred was already in the driver's seat, leaning against the door and his eyes closed, as if he was asleep, but Daphne knew he wasn't from the fact that his fingers were tapping out a beat on the steering wheel.

"You OK?" she murmured to him, and was startled to see tears glistening in his eyes as he turned to her. Fred, the most stoical man in the world, who never shed a tear over anything, not even the horrible films that made Daphne cry in sympathy to the characters, was about to let a tear slide down his cheek unchecked.

"I can't even fix a stupid mechanism. What is wrong with me? I must be so stupid… and now the house is flooded because of me."

Daphne refused to let him berating himself, leaning over and kissing him full on the lips, sliding one hand into his hair and the other round him to hold him close.

"You silly man. Do you really think this was your fault? Come on, let's get going, it's the middle of the night and I'm missing out on my beauty sleep."

He smiled at the "beauty sleep" comment; it was one of their little jokes from the week they were first married.

"OK. Which one?"

"The nearest," Daphne replied sleepily, leaning against his shoulder and yawning. "I'm beat."

Fred nodded slightly, so as not to displace her head, and slipped the van into gear.

Daphne fell asleep long before they arrived at the motel, so Fred left her in the van while he went and booked into a double room. When he got back, he had planned to wake her up so she could go in herself, but she looked so peaceful asleep on the seat that he just picked her up and carried her in instead, earning a few looks from a family in the foyer but just sympathetic and knowing smiles from the employees of the motel.

Daphne's eyes opened when Fred gently put her down on the bed and went into the bathroom to get back into his pyjamas, and she watched him walk into the little room and close the door smiling. No self-respecting or decent plumber would be awake at this time of night, so they would have to call in the morning. She rolled over and fell asleep again.

Fred walked out and got into bed himself, sliding under the covers and watching as Daphne reached out and rested her hand on his chest in her sleep. He smiled, reaching up and holding her hand in his, and closed his eyes.

Her little gesture had somehow triggered something in his brain, and he smiled to himself as he remembered how he had been before. So what if there was an accident at home? They weren't hurt. Maybe not fixing the leak wasn't such a big thing after all. So what if he'd failed in his job and it would cost them a couple of hundred dollars to fix? They weren't badly off, Daphne especially. And they were safe, and here together. That was the main thing.

Fred smiled as he rolled onto his side and draped his own arm over his wife's side, gently slipping into the welcome dark warmth of slumber.

A/N: Woo! Done! Please review, and Hayles45, please tell me what you think- did I do your challenge justice? Any more plots you want to challenge me with, just PM me or say in a review (this is everybody) and I will be glad to write them. Jazzola


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